The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-04-07

foolish pride might smart under as s
modification.
She read my thoughts in my eyes;
and, blushing. yet letting me see her
sweet face, she said, in a low voice:
- thought we were to be married."
Il hope so. 1t is my dearest wish,
Mary. have told you love you. 1t
would break up my life to lose you
now"
"You shall not lose me-but neither
will l lose you. shall never release
you more"
MARY, do let me speak my thoughts
out. l am very poor. The little that [
had is gone down in the Grosyenor. l
could not marry you as am. l could
offer you the hand of pauper. Let
me tell you my plans l shall write,
on reaching Glasgow, to the owners of
the Grosvenor, relate the loss of the
ship. and ask for payment of the wages
| that are due to me- With this money
| will travel to London and go TO work
at once to obtain berth on another
ship. Perhaps, when the owners of
! the Grosvenor hear my story, they will
give me post on board enc of their
other vessels. At all events, l must
hope for the best l will work very
hard"
No, no! can not listenr' she ex-
claimed, impetuously. You are 60
ing to tell me that you will work very
hard to become captain and save
little money; and you will then say
that several years must pass before
your pride will suffer you to think
yourself in proper position 20 make
me your wife"
Yes, was going to say that"
''Oh, where is your clever head
which enabled you to triumph over the
mutineers? Has the shipwreck served
you as it has the poor steward"
"My darling"
"Were you to work twenty years,
what money could YOU save out of this
poor profession of the sea that would
justify your pride-your cruel prideP"
was about to speak.
What money could YOU save that
would be of service when you know
that am rich. when you know that
what is mine is yours?"
Not much" said I.
Would you have loved me the less
had you known me to be poor? Would
you not have risked your life to save
mine though l had been beggar?
You loved me because-because 1 am
Mary Robertson; and ] love you be-
cause you are Edward Royle-dear to
me for your own dear sake, for my
poor dead fathers sake, because of my
love for you. Would you go away and
leave ME because you are too proud TO
make us both happy? will give you
all have-I will De a beggar and you
shall be rich, that you need not leave
me. Oh, do not speak of being poor!
Who is poor that acts as you have
done? Who is poor that can enrich
girls heart as you have enriched
mine?"
She had raised her voice uncon-
sciously, and overhearing herself. as
it were, she stopped on sudden, and
bowed her head with sob.
MARY" l whispered, Il will put
my pride away. Let no man judge
me wrongfully. l talk idle-God
knows now idle-when Ispeak Gf leav-
ing you. Yes, could leave you-but
at what cost? at what cost to us both?
What you have said-that | loved you
as Mary Robertson-is true. | know
in my own heart that my love can not
dishonor uS---that it can not gain nor
lose by what the future may hold in
store for me with you, dear one, as my
wife"
"Now you are my own true sailor
boy" was all she said.
| began this story on the sea, and |
desire to end it On the sea; and though |
another yarn, which should embrace |
my arrival at Glasgow, my introduce
ton to Mary's aunt, my visit to Lean
ington, my marriage, and divers other |
of an equally personal |
nature, could easily be spun to follow
limit the compass of it, and with the |
Wreck of the Grosyenor" my tale
should have had an end.
And yet L should be doing but poor
justice to the faithful and beautiful
nature of my dear wife if l did not |
tell You that the plans which she had |
unfoldcd 10 me, and which l have made |
to appear as though they only con-
cerned myself, included the boatswain
and the poor steward. For both a
provision was contemplated which l
knew her to well to doubt that she
would forget; provision that, on the
one hand, would bring the boatswain
alongside of us even in our own home,
and make him independent of his
calling, which, to say the least, con-
sidering the many years he had been
at sea, had served him but i'll, and still
offered him but a scurvy lookout; while,
on the other hand, it would enable the
steward to support himself and his
wife and child without in the smallest
degree taxing those unfortunate brains
which we could only hope the ship
wreck had not irreparably damaged.
With this record my story is done.